


Giocoso

by frostandcrow



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: (actually that’s a lie only Juno believes, (too soon?), Battle of Wits, Gen, M/M, Not-Thief!Juno, Surprise Cameo, Thief!Peter, it’s very much thief!Juno), just two dorks in love living their best life, loud flashy and a bit gratuitously, not beta’d we die like pseudo-Pipa, not the slightest hint of angst, sabotage galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 05:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18088178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostandcrow/pseuds/frostandcrow
Summary: Juno and Peter get hired to “reclaim” a gem from an auction house. The catch? They’re hired by two different clients. Cue the hijinks.Alternate title: Jewel-Heists as a Form of Foreplay for Two Adrenaline Junkies.





	Giocoso

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in that jossed universe we lived in for a while before the season 2 finale where there was a chance that Juno would stay on Mars and Peter would take sojourns from his galactic travels to drop in on him. Shhh, let me indulge in this disappearing reality for a bit longer.

“Hey Rita, I’m gonna need you to look into Rigley’s Auction House. I need blueprints, schedule, employee information, and access codes,” Juno said as he walked into the reception area of his office.

 

“Oooh, an auction, huh? Whatcha gonna sell, boss?”

 

“I don’t have anything worth selling and you know it.” He shrugged off his coat and flung it at the coat-rack. 

 

“I guess you got a point there, boss. The meetin’ with Miss Striker went okay?”

 

Juno walked over to where his coat lay on the ground, grunting slightly as he bent down to pick it up and place it on the rack tine that he’d missed. “Well, we’re getting paid and it seems like a straightforward job—no actual suspects to question, so no lies to wade through and no messy emotions to tread lightly around. I’m going to need you to do your behind-the-scenes computer thing, so whatever your plans are for tomorrow, cancel them.”

 

“A job that requires _Rita_ to do her thing? This one’s in the bag, boss!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too cocky,” he said as he walked into his office. The door shut behind him just a split second before she heard a muffled shout of surprise.

 

“Boss?” she called out.

 

“It’s nothing, Rita. I’m fine.” She half stood, wondering if she should go check on him anyway but then she figured that the man who’d snuck into his office about ten minutes ago could do that for her. 

 

She sat placidly at her desk, one eye on her stream the other looking over the information that her boss had requested. Her ears were not quite keen enough to catch the details of the conversation on the other side of her boss’s door. 

 

Shortly after she heard the sounds of someone sneaking out of a window, Juno emerged and grabbed his coat. Rita was certain that, if she didn’t know to look for it, she wouldn’t have noticed that his step seemed a bit lighter. “I’m taking off for the night, Rita. We’ll go over everything tomorrow morning.”

 

“Have a good night, boss,” she replied, but he had already turned away from her, so he couldn’t appreciate the magnitude of her smirk. 

 

———————————————————————————————

 

“Not gonna lie, Nureyev, this was a pleasant surprise. I don’t get many of those.”

 

Juno felt more than heard Nureyev’s rumble of assent from where his head was pillowed on the other man’s chest. 

 

“So, I gotta ask,” he continued, “are you back on Mars for business?”

 

“Oh, what a question. You’re not worried that seeing you is only my secondary reason for being here, are you?” The hand continued to trace up and down the bare skin of Juno’s upper back gently. 

 

“No, but I know you, Nureyev. You’re pretty good at multitasking.”

 

“My darling, let’s not worry about business at the moment. Office hours are over—“ he ignored Juno’s light snort of amusement at the thought of either of them keeping to a normal “business” schedule, “—and I can assure you that, at this present moment, my mind is currently occupied by only one thing.” 

 

As Peter set about proving his point, Juno almost forgot his sneaking suspicion. 

 

Almost.

 

——————————————————————————

 

He stood among the well-dressed crowd, his own suit stifling in the Martian sunset, trying to blend in and not tug at his tie.

 

“Why, Detective! Fancy seeing you here!” came a soft, lilting voice from close behind him, making him jump very slightly.

 

He quickly regained his composure. “Wow, what a surprise. You’re also here,” he said, voice flat and completely monotone as he leveled an unimpressed glare at the thief. “Mister…?”

 

“Dauph. Euless Dauph. And yes, well, this is _the_ event in Hyperion City tonight.”

 

“Yeah, but what are _you_ doing here?”

 

“Well, you see, there are quite a few precious pieces that my employers are very interested in…obtaining.” Juno snorted. Somehow he knew that only one piece on the docket tonight would draw the attention of Peter Nureyev. Unfortunately, it was also the same item he was after, though he suspected his motives were slightly more altruistic. “I do have to admit, it seems an unlikely place for a detective to visit.”

 

“What, a lady can’t spend his free time marveling at how many creds the rich will throw at anything shiny?”

 

Peter laughed disarmingly. “Well, you certainly have a point!” 

 

Their position in the throng of people outside the auction house had finally reached the doors. 

 

“Your invitation, please?” said a bored looking man in a red uniform, holding out his hand to Juno.

 

As Juno passed it over, he felt Peter’s tall form craning over his shoulder.

 

“Oh, I do say! Sir, sir!” he cried loudly, getting the attention of the employee, “Is that invitation addressed to an ‘Eliot Tipps’ because I know Mr Tipps and this is emphatically _not_ him!”

 

“Wait, what?” Juno asked, taken aback and scrambling to keep this from escalating into a Scene _._ “What are you doing?” he almost-hissed, angrily.

 

The degree of haughtiness and self-righteousness emanating from Peter was almost comical. “I’m _trying_ to stand up for my poor friend, Eliot, whom you emphatically are _not_. How _dare_ you!”

 

Juno suddenly realized what Peter was doing. “Excuse me, who are _you?”_ cried Juno, trying in vain to maintain his credibility by calling to question Peter’s, but he had the deepening realization that he was fighting a losing battle. 

 

The employee, ignoring Juno’s counter-accusation, looked back down at the invitation and then closely at Juno as if that would confirm the tall, sanctimonious man’s accusations. “I, uh…sir, I’m gonna need to…see some ID…?”

 

“The _nerve,_ ” Peter continued, also deftly ignoring Juno’s question. “Have you no shame? Not only to steal a man’s mail but also his _identity_?” 

 

The pitch and volume of Peter’s voice was very quickly approaching ‘making a Scene’ levels and the employee, whose job description probably prioritized decorum over common sense, quickly cut in. “Sir, please come with me,” he said, placing a hand on Juno’s arm and tugging him off to one side. Juno allowed himself to be escorted, subtly adjusting his comms. Once they were away from the majority of the crowd, the man said into his comms. “Yeah, uh…This is Lukas. I have a slight issue out here. I need identification on a…uh, Eliot Tipps?” He listened to the reply from the other end for a moment. 

 

Juno took his chance. “Rita…?” he whispered into his comms quietly. 

 

“On it boss!” she chirped back.

 

The screen of the employee’s comms beeped. The man studied the picture on it, then Juno, then back to the screen, squinting. Juno’s heart raced in anticipation. 

 

“You’re, uh, good to go, Mr Tipps. Sorry about the delay.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” And then, figuring that showing easy acquiescence to having his identity called into question would probably increase any suspicion against him, added, “I hope you don’t make a habit of believing the accusations of a clearly _insane_ person…” He continued muttering his fake outrage as the man held open one of the doors for him, allowing him into the foyer of the auction house. Once he was out of ear shot of any further employees, he whispered, “Thanks, Rita.”

 

“No problem boss. Oh! Before I forget, we need to get some better pictures of you for the future.”

 

“…what?”

 

“It’s just, we don’t have many pictures of your face that could pass as an ID photo, so…I used one of your mugshots and it’s hardly the most flattering picture.”

 

“You _what?”_

 

“Calm down, boss. They didn’t even press charges that time.”

 

“That’s…that’s not the _point,_ Rita.”

 

“Exactly! The point is that you need some nice pictures of yourself, boss! Remind me and I’ll pencil in a photoshoot. You’re free Wednesday, right?”

 

“Rita…” Juno sighed.

 

“Wednesday it is! Anyway, what happened? Why didn’t they think you were that Tipps guy?”

 

“I ran into a… _friend._ ”

 

She gasped loudly causing Juno to wince and wish he remembered how to work the volume control on his comms. “You ran into a friend while _undercover_? Who almost blew your cover? That is _so_ like that movie _Rebirth Identity_ where the main guy is a super spy! And he’s tryin’ to break into the enemy government’s top secret base so he can find the plans for this big bomb or somethin’ but he runs into his ex-lover, who he scorned, but not in an intentional way? Just a terrible mix of bad timing and circumstance and food allergies, but, anyway—“

 

“Yeah, something like that,” Juno replied cutting her off. “But, he underestimated me.” He couldn’t help the grin the spread over his face. “I’ll call you back in a bit,” he said, hanging up. 

 

He turned around to look back at the row of doors he’d just entered through. There he saw Peter, still outside, searching his pockets in front of an unimpressed doorman who looked like he was growing more impatient by the second. 

 

Peter chose that moment to look up and his eyes quickly found Juno’s. Juno smirked, saluted jauntily, and then turned to make his way towards the security checkpoint, which formed the threshold between foyer and auction house proper. His hand slipped into his coat pocket to finger the invitation he’d pulled from Peter’s jacket that morning. 

 

Joining the line to get through the checkpoint, he glanced at his watch; the auction was due to start in fifteen minutes, but the piece he’d been paid to retrieve for his client would probably be one of the last pieces brought out. He figured that gave him a two hour window to retrieve it and vanish. 

 

“My, you think with how far technology has come, these security checkpoints would work more quickly.” 

 

Juno startled and whirled. There was Peter, in line behind him.

 

“You…how…”

 

“Oh, come now, Detective! You know how spacious my pockets are. Sometimes it takes me a bit longer to find the item I’m looking for.”

 

“No, but…I…”

 

“Yes?” Peter’s expression would have been the epitome of innocent inquiry if it weren’t for the knowing humor in his eyes.

 

“You know what I did,” Juno hissed, lowly.

 

“Do I?”

 

Figuring there wasn’t any point in denial, Juno growled out, “I took the invitation out of your pocket this morning.”

 

“Oh? How very devious of you.” His expression remained politely blasé but his eyes were laughing.

 

Juno waited for the reveal, for Peter to unconcernedly explain how he’d worked around the hitch in his plan. “So?” he asked after a moment of silence.

 

“Hmm?”

 

He sighed as he realized that, if he wanted to know, he was going to have to actually ask. “You know what I mean. How did you get in without an invite?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

Juno growled in irritation, “But I took your invite!”

 

“Correction: you took _one_ of my invites.”

 

Realization hit Juno, hard. “Oh, you _didn’t_.”

 

“I’m flattered that you think I received a formal invitation through conventional means. But, alas, I’m afraid, my dear, I had to invite myself, which required me to make my own invitation. Fortuitously, my practice attempts are near flawless and, as you know, I rarely throw my doodles out.”

 

“You used a first draft of your counterfeited invitation,” Juno realized dejectedly, cursing himself for not having thought to look for more than one invitation that morning.

 

“First, fourth, who’s counting? And please, darling, try to keep your voice down.”

 

“What, like you did?”

 

“Oh, you’re not still sore about that, are you? I’m sure the real Mr Tipps would have appreciated my advocating for him, wherever he is at the moment. I suppose, though, I did get a bit… _theatrical_ ,” and here he smirked pointedly and lowered his voice, “However, I do seem to recall, _Mr Tipps,_ that you quite enjoyed my theatricality last night.”

 

Despite himself, Juno felt a blush rising to his cheeks, his mind blank with the exception of a neon sign flashing _Abort! Abort!. “_ Just…shut up.”

 

“And, I must say, I do quite like this suit.” Peter reached out to run his hands along the lapels appreciatively, “Though, I don’t recall you wearing it when you left this morning…”

 

“Congratulations, your memory is intact. Now, stop it, people are starting to stare.”

 

“I don’t believe that my memory was ever in doubt.” He removed his hands from Juno’s person reluctantly. “In fact, I’d like to remember you _not_ wearing it tonight.”

 

Juno dropped his face into his hands. He should have known better than to engage Peter in this sort of game. 

 

“Oh, Detective?” He felt one of Peter’s hands clasp his shoulders, “I do believe it’s your turn.” 

 

Peter’s hand dropped to Juno’s hip possessively as Juno turned around. He saw that another red-uniformed employee manning the security checkpoint was gesturing impatiently at Juno to step forward. He strode out of Peter’s reach, that weird mix of relief and regret tugging at him in the way that Peter’s hand no longer did.

 

He put his keys and comms into the little basket that the employee held and walked through the frame of the security device. 

 

It beeped angrily at him. 

 

“Empty your pockets, please,” said the bored-sounding employee. 

 

“I did.”

 

“Clearly, sir, you did not.”

 

He saw Peter in his peripheral vision, gliding through the frame next to his, which remained silent. Peter waited until Juno met his eyes, winked at him, and then sauntered into the room that held dozens of people milling about and waiting for the auction to begin.

 

“Oh, you…” Juno growled under his breath. His hand went to the trouser pocket over his hip—the same hip Peter had been groping just a minute ago—and clasped something that felt like a handle. _Well, shit,_ he thought. 

 

The employee was staring at him expectantly. 

 

“It’s, uh, just my keys, no big deal,” he said, trying to sound convincing. They both looked at the little basket in the employee’s hands. “My…other keys?” Juno ventured.

 

“Please, sir, empty your pockets.” The man no longer looked bored. He looked wary in the way people generally looked before they tried to ventilate him with laser fire. 

 

He sighed and pulled the object from his pocket. It was a plasma knife. 

 

“I can explain—“ 

  
“Stimpson, here,” the man said into his comms, “we have a Code Knife at the security gate. I repeat, we have a _Code Knife_ at the security gate.”

 

“Code Knife? Really? What the hell’s the point of code words if—hey, hey, alright, I’m coming. No need to rip a lady’s arm off.”

 

—————————————————————————————

 

To Juno’s happy surprise, the next few minutes didn’t involve him being shoved into a small room and getting his teeth kicked in. It did involve a lot of fast thinking and even faster talking, but in the end, he got off with a stern warning and with the assurance that they would be keeping an eye on him. 

 

He supposed that, given the types of people drawn to an event like this, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for a guest to “conveniently” forget they had a…tool of their trade still on their person. Less leniency would probably mean much fewer patrons. 

 

And, to his further surprise, by the time he’d made it to the auction block, it had barely started. 

 

In the back of his mind, he wondered where this surplus of luck had come from and how unpleasant it was going to be when the universe realized its mistake and came to collect repayment. Likely, with interest. 

 

He took a seat on a red cushioned chair and subtly surveyed the crowd. Most of the attention was directed at the auctioneer as he rattled off bids, the screen behind him displaying the name of the person placing the bid and their bid amount. He eyed the electronic bidder in his hands and was struck by an idea. 

 

He pulled out his comms and hit the speed dial. 

 

“Boss! Are you okay! Your comms shut off but I could see the security footage and they dragged you off and into a room that had no cameras and I was worried you’d end up like you did that time you tried to break into City Hall and—“

 

“No, Rita, I’m fine.” He tried to keep his voice low, but the sound system augmenting the volume of the auctioneer’s voice provided a decent level of background noise. “Listen, can you isolate a single electronic bidding device?”

 

“‘Course, boss! Which one would you like me to snag?”

 

“Do you see one registered to a ‘Euless Dauph?’” 

 

“Yup,” she said, popping the “p.” 

 

“Great. Can you attach it to my device instead?”

 

“Easy peasy.” There was the sound of rapid typing and Rita muttering to herself for a few seconds. “There! Done!”

 

Juno tested the device. The name “Mr E Dauph” flashed onto the screen behind the auctioneer. Apparently, he’d just bid a ridiculous amount of creds on a ridiculous bauble that resembled a very ugly pair of earrings. 

 

Juno resisted the urge to look at Peter’s reaction and made sure to keep his face forward and expressionless. He watched the screen as a “Mx Fernandez”—for a reason that completely escaped Juno—outbid Peter for the item. 

 

He let a few more items come and go without bidding to hopefully lull Peter into a false sense of security. After a bit, he noticed from his peripheral vision Peter had started to very casually survey the room. 

 

Anticipating that Peter would be making his exit in the next minute or so, Juno started a bidding war over a table with five legs—he had overheard the woman next to him discuss with her partner how desperate she was to add that piece to her collection, so he was certain Mr E Dauph would be engaged for the near future. After a couple of bids, he quietly got up and left the room, making sure to push the bidding device every couple of seconds.

 

“Rita, camera feed.”

 

“Got it! Pre-recorded feed is being looped now! They shouldn’t see you comin’, boss.”

 

“Great. Get those security codes for the vault ready for me. I’ll be there in about a two minutes.”

 

——————————————————————————————

 

The sudden blaring of a suspiciously timely fire alarm ninety seconds later made it so he never arrived to the vault. 

 

——————————————————————————————

 

“I must say, she really is quite skilled,” Peter said, walking up to where Juno was standing, outside.

 

“What?”

 

“Your secretary. I mean this in the best possible way, Juno, but I’m almost certain that you required her expertise to hijack my bidder.”

 

“What makes you think I couldn’t do it myself?”

 

Peter looked at him indulgently. “That is true, I suppose. And, to be fair, that assessment was based on the single data point of that one time I watched you struggle for nearly ten minutes to turn the volume on your comms up only to eventually realize that the device was actually powered off, so I guess I should give you the benefit of the doubt.”

 

“Damn right.” Juno stood on his toes in an attempt to peer over the crowd to see if there was any sign that the building had been cleared and that they could return inside. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask: did you end up winning that table?”

 

“What? You weren’t there to see?”

 

Juno leveled an unimpressed look at him. “You know damn well that’s why you pulled the fire alarm.”

 

“Did I? That doesn’t sound like something Mr Dauph would do. But, it does seem like whichever menace decided to disrupt this event was quite lucky. I overheard the doormen talking. It seems there was a camera malfunction in that area so it’s unlikely we’ll ever learn who it was.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Juno grumbled. 

 

“Again, my compliments to your secretary.” Peter smiled broadly. “Incidentally, she wouldn’t happen to have use for a five-legged table that was won for roughly seven times the amount it’s actually worth?”

 

Juno’s jaw dropped. “You’re actually going to stick around and pay for it?”

 

“Oh, good _heavens_ no. But, if she has a taste for unconventional pieces of furniture, I might consider…other methods of obtaining it for her.”

 

“No. She doesn’t want stolen gaudy furniture.”

 

“What about stolen tasteful furniture?”

 

“No! Dammit. No stolen _anything.”_

 

“Come now, detective, isn’t that a bit hypocritical, considering what _someone_ just stopped you from doing?”

 

“That’s different, okay? I’m trying to return a gem, which had been stolen, to its rightful owner. It’s…it’s _reverse_ stealing, okay?”

 

The crowd started to move towards the doors.

 

“Whatever you say, darling.”

 

“And…and, just stop it.”

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Just, _this._ You’re having a good time and it makes me nervous.”

 

“Oh. What do you think I’m up to?”

 

“You know exactly what.”

 

“Do I? Well, in that case, you should be relieved that they don’t allow weapons on our person.”

 

“Yeah, I learned that first-hand, thanks to you. And was that a threat? Are you thinking about planting a knife in my back?”

 

“What? _No_ , of course not, my dear.” Peter looked quite offended and a bit sick at the implication. “I was only wondering if I could pull the same trick twice and plant another knife in your pocket.” 

 

“Yeah, fat chance of that.”

 

“Yes, I figured. And it’s a poor thief indeed who tries the same trick twice. No matter how amusing.”

 

They flashed their invitations to the first doorman and then waited for their turn to be ushered through the security frame. Juno made sure that Peter stayed in front of him this time.

 

Peter went through as easily as he had before. Juno, removing his keys and comms again, followed.

 

The alarm sounded. 

 

“Oh, god _dammit._ ” 

 

“Ta-ta, _Mr Tipps_ ,” sang Peter as he entered the auction room. 

 

“Sir, I’m going to need to you to empty your pockets, please.” 

 

———————————————————————————

 

Juno left the same room they’d taken him to after his first attempt at being the planet’s most oblivious terrorist, this time with a slightly wrinkled suit from where they’d escorted him a bit more roughly than the first time, but otherwise unharmed. He suspected that being caught completely by surprise and, therefore having literally no excuse ready—a novel form of “playing dumb” for him—had given him more credibility than he would have expected. 

 

The note that had been attached to the knife had also helped, but only after Juno—who’d had more practice deciphering Peter’s terrible doodles—found it necessary to explain how the scrawled figure was, in fact, a smiley face and not something more sinister. 

 

He walked towards the auction room until he was out of sight of any employees. His patience long gone at this point, he pulled out his comms.

 

“This is _Rita!_ ”

 

“Yeah, Rita. I know.”

 

“Oh, hey boss! You finally done with your meeting?”

 

“My meeting? Wait, you saw that.”

 

“Sure did. Those men looked pretty annoyed with you. I’m really glad they didn’t punch you in the face or nothin’.”

 

“I’m pretty sure the third time’ll be the charm. Look, can you hack back into the cameras and loop the feed again? I’m getting tired of this game.”

 

“I already did, boss.”

 

“What.”

 

“Yeah, I saw that your friend was headed in the direction of the vault, so I assumed he’d want the security system taken care of. Ain’t ya working together? Boss?”

 

Juno pulled his hands away from his face. “Rita,” he said, keeping his voice calm through long practice, “why would the man I’m working with pull the fire alarm just before I made it to the vault.”

 

“I thought that was your exit strategy and he’d mistimed his cue or somethin’!”

 

“No, Rita,” he sighed, the urge to rebury his face in his hands growing stronger, “He’s not working with me. He’s the man who’s been making this job _much_ more complicated.” Juno started to walk in the direction of the vault, “Is he there yet?”

 

“Yeah, got there a couple of minutes ago, right before the guy guarding the door returned from his bathroom break.”

 

“Of course he did.” 

 

“Well, boss, if he ain’t working for you, how you gonna beat him to the sapphire if he’s already in the vault?”

 

Juno thought for a moment. “Well, I guess I have to get him out of there.”

 

————————————————————————

 

Guard duty was probably the dullest job at the Rigely's Auction House, thought Gregor. There were only so many times he could take a quick restroom break before he’d get a slap on the wrist for “dereliction of duty.” Whatever the hell that meant.

 

It wasn’t even as if he was the sole barrier between the contents of the vault and any general brigand who’d want to remove them from it. The electronic lock had…encryptions. And layers. And titanium. And other really secure features that they’d tried to explain to him, the entire endeavor surplus to his already existing knowledge that the lock was Very Secure. He wasn’t sure how much more security could be added by putting one bored person in front of the door.

 

Just as he was thinking about going for a coffee to help eat up some of the time before shift change, a man dressed in a somewhat shabby suit with an eyepatch came around the corner looking very flustered and walking quickly. The man laid eyes on Gregor and made a beeline towards him.

 

Gregor tensed. The man was clearly a patron of the auction, which meant that Gregor would have to be Polite and Solicitous. He groaned inwardly; he hated customer service.

 

Maybe, he thought belatedly, that was why he was always assigned guard duty. 

 

“Hey, you!” the man said as he drew nearer.

 

“Yeah?” And, after a pause, “sir?”

 

“Oh, good! You’re back! I’ve been looking _everywhere_ for someone who works here!”

 

“Sure. Whatever. What can I do for you.”

 

The man just sort of stared at him for a split second, looking a bit off-put by Gregor’s lack of urgency. “I saw a man go into the vault! And I’m positive he’s not an employee! And maybe I shouldn’t be telling _you_ this,” he said, expression consistent with a man who had reached a conclusion mid-sentence, “because clearly _you_ were supposed to be watching this door! But you weren’t there!”

 

“Alright, calm down. There’s no one inside.” 

 

“Says the man who wasn’t here to see the person not break in there!” Before Gregor could navigate the double negative, the man continued, his eye narrowing in belligerent suspicion, “Maybe I should talk to your boss.”

 

He snorted, “Yeah, as if I’m gonna tell you who that is.” Then he remembered the last lecture he’d had about the proper way to speak to the patrons and added a belated, “sir.”

 

“Fine,” said the man, turning to walk away, “I’ll ask someone else then. And I bet they’d be interested to hear about that period of time you _weren’t_ watching the door…”

 

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll check the room. But if it’s empty, will you drop it?”

 

The man walked back over. “Sure. But I’m telling you, you better hope he’s still in there. Otherwise, there’s a good chance that something of value _won’t_ be.”

 

——————————————————————————————

 

About a minute later, the room held one unconscious guard, one short-tempered private detective holding the guard’s night stick, and one surprised thief who was one twist of the wrist away from opening a smaller safe embedded into the vault’s back wall.

 

“Don’t do it, Nureyev,” said the PI. 

 

The thief only grinned broadly and twisted his wrist the rest of the way.

 

They looked inside.

 

“What…the hell?”

 

——————————————————————————————

 

“I’m not sure why I’m in here with you,” Juno said sullenly, fidgeting with the cuffs around his wrist.

 

“I imagine, darling, it’s because you didn’t think check the guards’ shift schedule.”

 

Juno scoffed, “What, and you expect me to believe that you did?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Well, that explains why you were still there at shift change,” Juno said, sarcastically.

 

“I admit that I may have…misjudged the passage of time somewhat.” He lounged backwards into the uncomfortable cushions of the back seat of the police cruiser, somehow managing to look completely at ease. Though, Juno suspected, there was a very good chance he was. “After all, I’ve had limited practice facing off against such a thoroughly _distracting_ opponent.”

 

There was silence for a moment.

 

“So, we’re really not going to talk about it?”

 

“Talk about what, Juno?”

 

“You expect me to believe that you didn’t take the sapphire?”

 

“Oh Juno, you saw the inside of that safe. It was already empty when I opened it.”

 

“Nur—Dauph, you were in that room, _by yourself_ , for quite a while before I got there.” He knew the implication was clear.

 

“Well then, Detective, where is the gem now? It can’t be on my person. The police searched both of us quite thoroughly.”

 

“That argument would be much more compelling if you hadn’t managed to go through security the first time with a _knife_ that you then _planted on me_ as we went through security the _second_ time.”

 

“Oh Juno, you’re not still sore about that, are you?”

 

“ _Still_ sore? It happened about two hours ago! I’m allowed to be irritated for at least this long. Also, how the hell did you put it in my pocket? I had my eye on you the entire time we were waiting outside.”

 

“Oh, my darling, you had only an eye for me?” Peter gushed. Juno couldn’t say for certain that it wasn’t completely sincere. “I’m quite flattered, my dear.”

 

“You’re evading the question.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Juno growled. 

 

“I do have to keep some of my secrets, love.”

 

“Whatever. Tell me, how much are you getting paid for the gem?”

 

“Nothing, Juno. I thought I made it clear that I don’t have it.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“I think the more interesting question here is why _you_ wanted it.”

 

“I was hired to retrieve it. Apparently it was the main stone in a family necklace heirloom thing that had been in the Striker family for generations. The reason I’m here is because the gem was plucked out of the necklace and _stolen,”_ Juno looked significantly at Peter and didn’t feel even a twinge of remorse at consolidating his ire towards thievery in general at this single thief in particular, “several months ago. The family figured out it was going to be auctioned here. It was just my luck that you seemed to have your eye on it, too.”

 

“Hmm.” Peter settled more comfortably into the cruiser’s cushioned seat.

 

“Y’know, for someone who was caught in pretty damning circumstances and is now handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser, you certainly don’t seem too distressed.”

 

“Why would I be distressed?” Then, Peter’s voice dropped to a more sultry timbre, “I’m in the back of a car with the loveliest lady on Mars. This is exactly where I want to be.” He placed his hand on Juno’s thigh, though the effect was slightly ruined by the necessity of his _other_ hand having to land there as well, given the handcuffs. 

 

“I must admit,” Juno said, dropping his timbre as well, “I am looking forward to…” 

 

“Yes, Detective?”

 

“…watching you flirt your way out of this one.” He smirked and leaned back into the seat. He tried not to let Peter’s delighted laugh of surprise ruin his moment of gloating.

 

“Just try not to get too jealous, dear.”

 

“Ugh, please, would you two _get a room_?”

 

Juno and Peter jerked away from each other. Juno craned his neck to look out his window, which had been left open in the hot Martian night. “Alessandra?”

 

“Yo.”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Some detective you are, Steel. Why _would_ a second PI be here?”

 

“Someone…hired you? For what?” 

 

“Probably the same thing someone’d hire you for.”

 

“For the Cyrillus Sapphire?”

 

“Maybe.” She said. Her smug tone wasn’t nearly as ambiguous. 

 

“Well, joke’s on you. Gem’s not here.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You know?”

 

“Wrong question Steel.”

 

“You know…how?”

 

“Much better.”

 

Juno felt his jaw drop. “You… _you_ stole it?” 

 

“Eh. I prefer ‘reclaim.’ Much more accurate.”

 

“Wait, _I_ was hired to ‘reclaim’ the sapphire. Who the hell hired _you_?”

 

“The people _your_ client’s family stole it from. The Cyrillus Sapphire was taken about five hundred years ago from the Lunar Cultural Preservation Society and placed into that eyesore of a necklace that your client’s family made to try and disguise it. The Lunarians heard about the theft and the auction so they reached out to a local PI with a stellar record and paid her to retrieve it. It’s on its way back to them as we speak.”

 

“Oh…that…huh.”

 

“Anyway, thought I’d let you know. Professional courtesy and all. You’re the only PI on Mars who’s ever shown me any, so I thought I’d return the favor.”

 

“Yeah well, I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

 

“Well, I gotta run. I’m suddenly in a really good mood and I don’t want to ruin it.” She pushed off from where she had been leaning against the side of the car and started to walk off. “See ya around, Steel.”

 

Juno slumped back into the cushion. “Well, at least we have some closure—oh _goddamit_.”

 

The seat next to him was empty with the exception of a pair of handcuffs. 

 

——————————————————————————————————

 

It was another hour before Juno talked himself out of his third awkward situation of the evening. He had to admit, having Peter break into the vault before him and then escape police custody while leaving him behind went a long ways towards lending him the credibility he needed to convince even the HCPD that he was an “innocent and concerned auction-goer who, yes, fine, had a predilection for attempting to sneak knives through security, but such an absent-minded quirk wasn’t explicitly _illegal_ was it?” Thanks to Rita, there was no usable camera footage of him knocking the guard out, which also helped. He did get a life-long ban from Rigely's Auction House, but that was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. 

 

He’d parked several blocks away and wasn’t surprised to see a familiar slender shape leaning against his car without a care in the world. 

 

“You really have some nerve, you know that,” Juno said, without much heat.

 

“Oh, I’m well aware. You wouldn’t mind giving me a lift, would you?”

 

“Only if it’s to my apartment. It’s been a long day and I’m not in the mood to play taxi.”

 

“Well, in that case, I suppose I don’t have a choice.” His toothy grin reflected the light from the street lamp above them. 

 

The got into the car. Juno paused before starting the engine. “Nureyev?”

 

“Yes, darling?”

 

“Let’s never work the same job again.”

 

“Well, I suppose that’s fair. Though I’d be lying if I said that this wasn’t one of the highlights of my career.”

 

Juno started the car and pulled onto the road. “You know,” he said after a moment. “I think it was for me, too.”

 

“My only regret…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I left those handcuffs in the police cruiser.”

 

The balance of _fondness_ and _vexation_ Juno felt towards Peter most of the time shifted minutely towards the latter. “Nureyev,” he groaned.

 

“Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to keep a lookout for another pair.”

 

Juno risked a split second of driving blind to indulge himself in a therapeutic pinching of the bridge of his nose. 

 

But, mainly, it was to hide the smile he couldn’t suppress.

**Author's Note:**

> I got absolutely walloped by the inspiration for this fic and wrote it in two days and had an incredibly fun time doing so. If it comes off as too silly, too OOC, or weirdly paced, that’s why. 
> 
> Of course, I’m always happy to hear what you think!
> 
> And, if you desire a huge rock to hide under, come join me @frostandcrow on Tumblr!


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